The Greaser and the Art Student
by Smut and Guns
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, a popular greaser and jock, decides, to hell what everyone thinks and asks Arthur out, an unpopular art student, on a small date. Arthur agrees after while, not expecting to have fun. Alfred's charm and wits win him over into having a great time.


Alfred waits by his car with his blond hair slicked back. He knew he wasn't supposed to be doing this nut he was waiting for Arthur. It was 1952, and behavior like that was frowned upon. Also, Alfred was a very popular greaser and football jock and Arthur was just a quiet art student. What would his friends say? His parents even! By now, he really didn't care.

He spots Arthur, not too far away, holding his books close to his skinny body.

"Art!" Alfred calls, raising his hand to motion him toward the jock.

"What?" Arthur demands, not wanting to deal with anyone's crap today.

"Come with me." The younger proposes.

"Um, no." Arthur refuses and starts to walk away before Alfred grabs his arm.

"Common." Alfred urges. The older looks at the blue eyed teen skeptically.

"Why?"

"Because I maybe like you." Alfred admits shamelessly with a straight face. Arthur is shocked frozen and into silence, not sure how to respond.

Arthur was gay, but not openly, of course not! But, on the other hand, Alfred was a bit cute.

"What the hell. I guess. Where are we going?" he says, looking away in a huff.

"Pick a place!"  
"My parent's Café." Arthur challenges but Alfred is unfazed.

"Get in." he grins charmingly and jumps in, starting his car and pulls back the black hood.

"Must you? You bloody idiot." Arthur demands angrily.

"Arthur Kirkland, you are extremely English." Alfred laughs and speeds away from the school's old parking lot.

"Let's ride Daddy-o." The younger smirks, pulling on his shades, which had once rested upon his perfectly placed blond hair.

"Don't ever say that again." Arthur says, stifling a laugh and looks out of the window. Alfred smiles and continues to drive through the small town to Arthur's parent's Café. It was a small place, but always had lots of folks. There was a bar and several booths as well as lone tables with only two chairs.

"Oh, Arthur! Home from school? Who's your friend?" Art's mother asks Arthur never came home with friends, especially not jocks.

"I'm Alfred, Ma'am. Alfred F. Jones." He smiles brightly, shaking her hand firmly.

"Oh my, hello!" she giggles, blushing.

"Come off it mum." Arthur frowns.

"Is he your date?" she walks passed Arthur and whispers in his ear.

"Yes mum, now leave!" he growls in return, blushing brightly and refusing to look at the boy in question.

"He's very handsome." Arthur's mother giggles before scurrying off into the kitchen.

"What did she say to you?" Al asks curiously.

"None of your business." Arthur says a bit rudely, but the American brushes it off. Alfred grabs the older and drags him to a booth near the back.

"So Arthur Kirkland, what's with you?"

"What do you mean 'what's with me?'" Arthur demands.

"You never talk to anyone, no one sees you anywhere outside of school! What's with you?"

"I'm not fond of petty socializing." He frowns.

"What's putty socializing?" Alfred asks, dumbfounded. Arthur stares at him for awhile, shocked by his stupidity.

"I said petty."

"Ohhhh! I thought you said putty!" Alfred laughs at himself loudly and obnoxiously. The Brit starts regretting agreeing to this date.

"Listen, I'm sorry. What's some things you like?" Alfred asks, trying to recover. He hated himself for making such a dumb mistake and was tired of making a fool of himself.

"Art obviously." Arthur shrugs, motioning to his sketchbooks and various types of special pens and markers.

"Well are you any good?"

"I guess."

"Well can I see?" Al asks hopefully.

"Defiantly not." The green eyed boy refuses.

"Why! Common, one picture!" Alfred pleads. Arthur eventually sighs, getting tired of Alfred's puppy dog eyes. He pulls out one of his favorite works of art, though he didn't think it was great. It was okay in his eyes. He sets it on the table but doesn't raise his head.

"Golly! This is amazing Arthur!" Alfred beams, stunned at the beauty of the fine piece. It was a picture of a dragon painted with dark reds and blacks and various other dark colors.

Arthur lifts his head, "It's alright." He frowns and stashes it back into his notebooks.

"No really! It's amazing! Where did you learn to paint like that!" Alfred marvels. Arthur rolls his eyes.

"I'm no artist. It's okay." He repeats.

"You have barely spoken to me before! Why the sudden date? You didn't even know I was gay!" Arthur questions.

"You're gay?! Oh good, that's a relief!" Alfred sighs happily.

"Really, you bleedin' idiot?" Arthur demands angrily and gets up and starts walking away.

"No Arthur, wait!" Alfred calls, running after him and catching his arm.

"Let me at least explain." He begs. The art student rolls his eyes and goes bck to the booth's cooshie seats.

"I just thought, hey why not! You seemed nice and we has talked once before! Nice as in, not extremely mean. You can be a bit rude sometimes." Al chuckles but continues, "I thought you were kinda cute and decided what the hell, let's see what happens!" he finishes grinning.

"When have we talked before?" Arthur asks, bored.

"In the hall, you dropped a few books and I helped you pick them up! I asked what your name was and you said Arthur and muttered thanks and walked away!"

"I don't remember that."

"Well it happened!" Alfred frowns. The waitress waddles over with a platter of ice creams sundae with two spoons and two Cokes.

"Mum…" Arthur groans and hides his face in his hands.

"Your Mom did this for us? How sweet!" Alfred perks up and picks up a spoon and eats quickly.

"You wamf fome?" he tries to say.

"Not really." Arthur says simply and looks out the window to the cloudy sky above.

"Common!" Alfred says and grabs Arthur's face and shoves the spoon in his mouth. Arthur mumbles a protest loudly but his mouth was full. He swallows quickly, "What was that for, you wank!" he demands.

"Your 'mum'," Al quotes with his fingers in the air using Art's English accent, "Is nice."

Arthur ignores him and sips at the soda. Alfred fumbles for words to say to keep the Brit ingaged in conversation but soon, sadly gives up.

" You aren't having fun, are you?" Arthur looks up to the younger's brilliant blue eyes and answers honestly.

"I've never been on a date before. Not sure what to do." He shrugs.

"Well you talk and you joke and you have fun!" Alfred says, putting his chin on the table, looking up at the older teen.

"And you aren't having fun…" he sighs sadly, looking away. Arthur surprisingly laughs and runs his hand through his messy blond hair.

"Did I ever say I wasn't, you idiot!" he laughs and puts his chin on the table, mimicking Alfred.

"I'm having fun." He finishes and sits back up. Alfred's blue eyes glimmer in happiness as he bolts back up.

"Holy crap, really?"

"Yeah." Arthur says and looks out the window once more, a smile on his pale face.


End file.
